Our Lonely World Together
by wearedriftingapart
Summary: Marceline lives in a dreary, rainy town called Ooo. It's a lonely place really, where people don't care about anyone but themselves. It has the highest divorce rate of any city for four states, and one of the highest clinical depression rates of the country. Marceline hasn't fallen into either of those categories, but it's hard to find someone else who hasn't either. Bubbline AU
1. Chapter 1

The car sputtered to a halt as I approached my house. The lawn needed to be mowed, again. The constant rain kept the grass growing at an annoying rate, while drowning other parts of the yard in dark puddles of mud and who-knows-what. I sat in the driver's seat for a minute, observing the house. It wasn't often that I remembered to just look at it.

The white siding was becoming dirty, in need of power washing. The black shutters had been fading to a dull gray over the years, desperate for a coat of paint. Trim all around needed to be cleaned, and gutters were chipping off in pieces. The doorjam on the front door had a meaty dent in it from the last hurricane, the last window to the left on the second floor was cracked from the same event. My house was falling to shit, and I knew it. Looking around the street, nobody else seemed to care much either. This whole town was falling to shit, and I knew that too.

Kicking open the door to my car with the painful squeal I was used to, I headed out into the light rain. I felt the water drip through my hair onto my scalp as I trekked up the awkward stairs leading to my porch. Digging in my coat pocket for my keys, I felt the wind hit my back roughly, nearly sending me into the door. I unlocked the door and pushed in.

The darkness would've startled any normal person, especially for being two in the afternoon, but I was used to it. The rain and clouds constantly set Ooo into a darkness in which eight in the morning was miraculously the brightest point of the day. Everyone here was used to it.

Shutting the door behind me, I walked blindly to the lightswitch and flipped it on. The light flickered: once, twice, and finally settled with buzzing on. The bluish fluorescent light in the kitchen dimly lit the countertops and sink, restoring my vision. I quickly set to turning on the small lamps that I had placed all around the home. Soon enough, the lower floor was lit in warm yellowed light bouncing off of the beige walls. I settled onto the red couch in the center of the room, pulling the woven blanket over my form. I had to readjust about twelve times until I had finally entered the ideal position for this horrific couch, the half-fetal, "my wife banished me to the couch" position.

I didn't even bother with the television, so I just sat there in the dim, warm light, and fell asleep.

A few hours later, I woke up facing the wrong way, my chin buried into my shoulder. My neck _hurt._ Groggily, I slipped off of the couch and stretched, popping the vertebrae in my back. With the ache subsiding, I padded over to the kitchen. Ah, the kitchen, with the shitty tile and shitty counters and shitty appliances. Not to mention, the shitty fluorescent light that was _still_ buzzing overhead. I pulled the fridge open, scanning the contents. Expired milk, old lunchmeat, and one unopened applesauce container. I settled for that, yanking it from the sticky shelf and grabbing a not-very-clean-looking spoon.

Settling at the small nook, I cradled the applesauce container in my hand while staring out of the small window. Rain was falling heavily now, pounding on the roof and making small, muffled sounds. A crackle of thunder sounded in the distance, not startling me in the least.

Realizing I had never taken my coat off, I slipped it off of my shoulders and onto the back of the chair behind me. The cool air quickly chilled my bare arms, making me shiver. The weather here was miserable, windy, and cold. Not quite cold enough to snow, but cold enough to make the damp air feel twenty degrees cooler than it was.

After nearly twenty minutes of boredly sitting at the nook, I stood up and left it. There was nothing to do in this stupid, boring, depressing city. Everyone who lived here was either old, depressed, or both. I was one of the few exceptions, of parents who insisted moving here due to such low housing prices. Well, they were dead now, and I inherited the family-piece-of-shit. Including the piece-of-shit car to go with it. The early 90's Glob-knows-what with the dented hood and dead taillights. Real charmer.

The only slight ray of sunshine in this whole town was the lounge downtown. It wasn't nice, per se, but it wasn't horrible either. It was the only place that served good alcohol, after all. A nice, brick exterior with a cute sign. The goal was to attract most of the younger crowd, but most of the younger crowd moved away the second they turned eighteen, leaving their depressed parents behind. Those aren't the kind of people that show up at the lounge.

The chirpy server there, Finn, was somehow always bright in this dark city. He wasn't the smartest tool in the run-down shed, but he was entertaining enough. His laugh was still pure somehow, and highly contagious. On days he wasn't at work, he was nowhere to be found. I always believed he went to another town as a break from this place. Hardest part is, the nearest town that actually has things to do is almost three hours away.

At the lounge, Finn would always flock to me. In the crowd of grumpy people, I was his only relatable friend. We were just about the same age, him only two years younger than me. We could talk about young adult stuff: drinking, dating. He never spoke about dating though, choosing only to listen to me. If I ever invited him over, he would politely decline. I never took personal offense to it, and just agreed with him. He liked to keep to himself.

One day, I finally got him to open up about his love life over a few drinks. He was well past buzzed when he said her name for the first time: Bonnibel. To me, it was a pretty name, but I couldn't make a face to fit it, so I asked him to describe her.

"Oh, y'know. She's just… her. You'd have to meet her yourself." He said with a smile, obviously deeply in love with her. I thought it was cute.

"Maybe, if you can drag her down to this hellhole." I said, holding a glass just below my mouth. He just put his thumb up and downed his shot, wincing at the burn of it.

"Yeah! She's coming down here next week. She wants a break from the big city, and all that craziness. She's actually pretty quiet so she might like it down here." He explained, his hands flailing all through the air, trying to describe his words.

I downed my drink as well, shaking my head.

"It'll be a miracle if she likes it down here. Or, she's crazy… Is she crazy, Finn?" I asked with a smirk, raising my eyebrow.

"Not a chance."

A week went quickly with Finn texting me a new countdown number every day.

 **Finn: trust me! :D you're gonna love her!**

 **Me: If you say so, bud**

 **Finn: she'll be here tomorrow, so make sure you wear something nice!  
Me: Why, so she can fall in love with me instead? :P lol**

It took a long time for him to reply.

 **Finn: if thats what will make her happy then sure**

That text took me aback. I read it twice, and settled with a cute goodbye text. It was a really weird message, but I didn't dwell on it.

The next day, I met Finn at the lounge. He was off shift, but leaning against the bar. His hair was trimmed, his shirt ironed, and a nice watch sat on his wrist. He looked nice.

"Hey! You excited?" He asked, nervously.

"Not nearly as excited as you, Finn." He looked upset. "I mean, you look _super_ excited, totally." He smiled at that and motioned for me to sit.

We waited for about ten minutes, just chitchatting and drinking a little bit of alcohol as we sat there. Then, the bell on the lounge door pinged, and we both turned. A smile rose on his face, but I couldn't take my eyes off of her.

There was Bonnibel. Finn's girlfriend. The, unmentioned, _incredibly damn hot_ girlfriend. Unlike all of the pale and dark haired citizens of Ooo, she had tanned and radiant skin, and strawberry blonde hair tucked up into a bun. Huddled into her coat, I could see her slender neck and collarbone from the gap between cloth and skin. Her legs, _oh boy_ her legs, long and lean and perfectly sculpted, something from the heavens for Glob's sake. As she approached, I barely managed to pick my jaw up and off of the floor and play it cool.

"Finn!" She exclaimed, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug. "I missed you!"

He placed his hands on her waist and kissed her cheek. I could only stare on in… jealousy? No.

Her face was so soft looking, so tender, and flushed slightly from the outdoor chill. Her smile revealed those perfect, toothpaste-ad teeth that simply glowed against her skin. Her eyes were a brilliant blue, deep and layered with colors and shades. I wasn't sure whether I should be jealous of her or attracted to her. Maybe a little bit of both.

When she pulled back from Finn, she turned to me, giving me a once over. I felt nervous, uncomfortable, under those bright eyes. "And who is this, Finn?" She said with a smile. It felt genuine enough to help ease my nerves a bit.

"Oh! This is Marceline. She lives here in Ooo, too." He said, gesturing towards me.

She smiled and took my hand. "Bonnibel." We never lost eye contact. I smiled back at her, anxiously. For such a small girl, she was so intimidating.

It was in that moment that I knew, I had a crush on Finn's girlfriend.

 **A/N: This is my first story so thank you for reading and reviews would be super appreciated!**


	2. Chapter 2

From the point I met Bonnibel and onward… I started to realize acutely how horrid this town probably looked to her. She was used to stretching skyscrapers, millions of stores to endlessly wander through, freshly and meticulously landscaped homes and businesses, clean streets and glowing sunlight easing soft shadows past the horizon. Yeah, I'd been to Cankin, cutely renamed to the "Candy Kingdom" by many locals due to the much brighter overall outlook and famous candy shop that brought tourists from all over the country to taste the incredible delights. And yeah, I remembered my astonishment visiting there. But I also remember how incredibly expensive the cost of living there was. Whatever Bonnibel did, (somehow I never even asked) she must've made enough money to afford a flat or apartment. The long, oddly barren expanse of land separating Ooo and Cankin alone was expensive enough, let alone the big city.

Pushing into the lounge, I was grossly aware of how disappointed Bonnibel must've been meeting us here. The worn red carpets were separating from the floor at the edges, in dire need of replacement. The bar itself was this massive mahogany chunk, already worn down due to a lack of protective coating on it, scratches deep in the smooth surface from repeated abuse. The chairs and barstools were itching for replacement with broken legs, mystery stains, and an overall unbalanced look to them all.

As I walked to the bar, I observed a particularly angsty looking group of teenagers occupying the lounge chairs sharing a small dish, an impatient looking businesswoman settled on the small sofa, and nearly the entire bar itself full of patrons aside from about two chairs. I shoved my way between two men, who didn't seem the least bit offended by my intrusion. Waving at the bartender, I quickly avoided the "can I buy you a drink…" attempts by both men and ordered my own. As I sat at the bar, I considered the day before, and meeting Bonnibel.

A crush…. What was I even thinking? I'd barely talked to her before excusing myself to let her and Finn spend some time together. In hindsight, I had jumped to a decision simply based on her looks. I was being ridiculous. Whatever.

I would just let her and Finn be. She didn't seem to show much interest in me in the first place anyway. Besides, she was just visiting. Yeah, just visiting. She'd be gone soon. Easy.

I sipped slowly on my drink.

I quickly found out that avoiding Bonnibel was not going to be easy.

Finn called, requesting that I come by his flat for dinner. Supposedly, _Bonnibel_ requested my appearance. And here I was, standing before the bathroom mirror with my makeup bag sprawled on the countertop while carefully applying my eyeliner. Why did I care? That question continued to swirl around in my head as I reached for the very nice outfit I had laid out and as I ruffled my hair into an attractively messy mop of dark curls down my back. Well, I still couldn't figure out the answer, but I did care.

Pulling up to Finn's flat, I parked the car behind his and kicked the door open as usual. Straightening my clothes and running a hand through my hair one last time, I headed to the door and knocked twice. I heard a muffled voice before the door was opened by a grinning Bonnibel.

"Now I feel underdressed." She said playfully as she looked me up and down. I could feel the red creeping up from my neck to my cheeks.

"I always try to upstage my hosts." I stated before following her in. She gave me a backwards glance as we headed to the kitchen.

I'd never been to Finn's place. It was tidy and clean with light gray walls. Although it had decent décor, it looked like he was trying to convert a more traditional home into a modern one slowly. Most of the furniture looked older, aside from the coffee table before the couch and some of the art on the walls. The kitchen, though, looked fresh out of a home magazine. Granite countertops, new shiny appliances, and slick tile floor that was beaming from the overhead kitchen light. I briefly wondered how much he had paid for all of this and noticed how much it contrasted with my own home.

"Marceline!" Finn whooped from behind the counter, tossing me a beer. I caught it, luckily, and opened it with my hand, which Bonnibel and Finn both looked horrified at.

"Does that not hurt?" Finn asked in shock. I held out my hand, which showed no evidence of damage and shrugged. We shared a laugh.

I settled on the barstool beside Bonnibel, who was idly playing with the ring adorning her middle finger while watching Finn cook. I watched her glance subtly at my hand, and more specifically the scar atop my knuckle, before she caught my gaze and turned away. Why would she want me here?

We chatted for a bit about Finn, shared a few stories. She had a good sense of humor, which was nice. Finn added some side comments to our conversations as he cooked, making the both of us laugh. Hanging out with them was easy, fun. Not for long.

"So, Marceline." She started, tilting her head to meet my eyes.

"So, Bonnie." She chuckled at that, causing Finn to turn around in curiosity.

"You live around here, huh? How do you like the place? I was thinking of moving here." My brows came together as I frowned at her. Why would a girl like her want to live here? This had to be a joke.  
"What?" She asked, genuine concern creeping onto her face.

"I mean, why would you want to leave Cankin? This place is permanently rainy… and depressing. It's like stuck in a black and white movie, forever." She stopped playing with the ring on her finger and considered that.

"I don't know, I kind of like it." She smiled at me. I actually laughed out loud.

Finn merely peered up from his pot dumbly.

"Then why do _you_ live here, then?" She questioned, her gaze becoming more of a glare as her eyes narrowed.

I watched her search my face for a reaction. I glanced blankly at her and tapped my nails on the countertop as her annoyance became evident.

"Because I can't afford to move anywhere else." I said flatly, collecting Finn's attention again.

"No, really," I continued, "If I could move _anywhere else_ , I would. What, do you plan on moving here for _Finn_?"

She gave me this gratuitous smile, screaming offense. She then clicked her tongue and looked down at her hands, still smiling.

"Not everyone has the same taste, _Marceline_." Her words were dripping with venom, and the way my name wrapped around her tongue felt disturbing. Her eyes met mine again, and we remained a fiery connection until Finn intervened.

"Okay! The pasta is ready!" He said with such enthusiasm that I nearly rolled my eyes. Bonnibel quickly brought a hand up to brush her hair aside and turned away from me. I could practically feel the aggravation radiating from her form.

"Marce, I know you love tomatoes so I was sure to mix a lot in for you. And PB, I threw in a lot of garlic for yours-"

"Finn, I've told you that I hate tomatoes." I nearly growled. The anger wasn't directed at him, but Bonnibel instead. Bonnibel's hand curled into a fist.

"If you aren't going to appreciate what he made for you then you can _leave_ -"

I cut her off. "I _am_ appreciating what he made, I'm just _reminding him_."

"Guys, I can make a new-"

"Well YOU aren't his girlfriend so why would _he_ know that!" We were close enough on those two barstools that they might as well have been one.

Finn stood with the spoon in his hand, reaching for my bowl, frozen. He looked mortified.

My voice suddenly became low and I laughed. "Is that what this is about? You think I _want_ _Finn_?"

"Apparently so since you're constantly hanging around him!" Her nails scraped the countertop, pointer finger drawing to my chest like a dagger.

"You invited me here! And in case he _hasn't_ told you, I'm not even interested in men!"

Her eyebrow twitched and her frown deepened. She turned to her bowl and flipped a piece of pasta over with her fork.

"Well you can leave, anyways." She finally decided on, calmly.

I sat up and pushed the barstool back into place. "Good to know that you're homophobic, too. Bitch." I spat as I walked to the door. I could hear a sound of extreme anger leave her before she yelled, "I'm not _fucking_ homophobic!"

"Thanks for dinner, Finn!" I yelled before pulling the door shut behind me.

Good going, Marceline.

I settled for a heavy-rock playlist on my way home, blasting the songs through my low quality speakers, the sound crackling into my ears and keeping my anger alive. The horrid suspension that I normally ignored started to annoy me more as I ran over small rocks and bumpy road areas. My fingers curled a death grip onto the stick shift.

Yeah, as if I would have a crush on that bitch. She thinks her boyfriend is such a trophy that every girl must be in love with him, of course. No offense to Finn, but he wouldn't be in my sights even if I was straight. Whatever.

As the nearly-violent guitar riffs kept my deadly glare on the road, I pulled up next to a woman in an old sedan at a red light. She glared at my radio, making a motion with her hand for me to turn it down. Instead, I dramatically turned the knob up impossibly louder and started to mouth along with the words. She frowned and kept her eyes fixed on the light, rushing off when it turned green.

If there was a specific reason that Finn's girlfriend made my blood boil, I didn't know. That was a small argument that I normally would've gotten over in a few minutes of cooldown. But instead of cooling down, I was having a full-fledged meltdown.

Pulling up to my house, I barely had enough braking distance to not hit the car parked on the side of the road when I slammed the brakes down. Grumbling my way out of the car, I trudged through the yard and stopped before the door, fumbling with my keys.

Cursing, I dropped them onto the doormat and scrambled to pick them up. The neighbor who was outside with his dog looked concerned. I shot him a glare as I shoved the key into the lock and turned it open.

Now, I normally didn't have anger issues… Well, ones this bad anyways.

As I huffed and flopped onto the couch, I replayed the conversation in my head a million times. Everything was going so good, but she just _got to me_.

I decided to take a shower, beginning to get less frustrated as time went on. By the time I was ready for bed, I had put the majority of that encounter in the back of my mind. I drifted to sleep shortly after.

Waking up to a decent amount of light shining through the curtains (that eight in the morning brightness again), I stretched beneath my sheets and turned on my side. I felt so peaceful, well-rested…

My phone had a text. I snatched the slim device from my nightstand and unlocked it. A single text was from Finn:

 **I don't want you to be in contact with Finn again. xoxo Bonnie** **;)**

My fist caught the sheets and I squeezed my phone angrily. Okay, Bonnibel. We can play this game.

 **A/N: Thanks for the lovely feedback! I hope you guys liked this minor scuffle. It's surely not the last mwahaha**


	3. Chapter 3

There were only two things I could do effectively while boiling with anger: cleaning and… well, nevermind.

I settled on cleaning and set off to tidy up the house. Unearthing some age-old cleaning supplies, I began in the kitchen, where the mess was probably worse on a 'food safety regulation issue' level. Despite the fact that I normally ate out, I couldn't remember the last time I'd actually used bleach products in the kitchen, but I could remember the last time I had cooked raw meat. So… cleaning.

The kitchen went relatively smoothly, acting as the most therapeutic way possible to calm myself down from that text that still sat, unreplied to, on my cell. I moved throughout the house, digging out an old vacuum cleaner (having to empty the years-old dust) and busting a pair of earbuds out to listen to some jams.

Through the music, I heard my phone ding. I considered who it could've been for a minute, and briefly remembered that Finn was the only person who had my number. Shutting the vacuum cleaner off and yanking my phone from its place in my pocket by the earbud cord, I unlocked it.

A single voicemail remained from Finn. Oddly enough, the call must've never actually had a notification sound as the music was playing. I clicked on the voicemail, which paused the music.

 _'Hey… I know that you and uh… Bonnie got off to a rough start, but…'_ The voicemail went silent for a few seconds. _'I know how you can get and how she can get and… What I'm trying to say is that you two just came to a misunderstanding and I want for us all to meet up again, in a public place, y'know? We'll be at the lounge tonight, 9pm. Meet us if you want. I'll make sure she'll cool it. Okay, bye I guess.'_

I considered the voicemail for a second. So, Finn wants us to reconcile? I highly doubted that he told Bonnibel about this little stunt, considering the fact that he basically whispered the whole voicemail. My first instinct was to just not go, but then I got to thinking. I could _really_ mess with her, especially since she told me not to contact Finn and all.

I decided I would meet them there.

Once again all tidied up and dressed awesomely, I headed out to the lounge. The parking lot was a bit crowded, but I found room between two pickup trucks. They seemed out of place, but whatever. The mild chill of the night left me wishing I had brought a coat, but the wind wasn't hurricane worthy so I would survive.

Pushing into the lounge, I was greeted with a variety of smells. The kitchen must've been booming. I quickly located the blonde couple over by the lonely pool table, playing a game with a stranger. The majority of other customers were crowded at the bar, undoubtedly harassing the bartender on shift.

Bonnibel had her back to the door, so I could covertly make my way over. The only flaw was that the stranger had stood up from his shot and looked me up and down through his glasses. He wasn't exactly a fine bottle of wine with that messy hair and pathetic looking puff of hair on his chin, but he looked cheerful enough.

"We have a visitor." The man stated, mild interest in his eyes. This caused Bonnibel to turn around and glare at me, knowing that _I_ had arrived before even seeing me. Her eyes didn't hold the fire of last night, but they still felt like thousand pound weights on me. Her lip tugged at the end as she turned to Finn harshly. She whispered something as her hands formed into balls on the table edge.

Finn cut off her violent whispers. "Marceline, hey. I'm glad you could make it." He said, the least cheerful I'd ever seen him. He looked worried, and the stranger gave no indication that he had any clue of what was happening.

"Yes, hello. Marceline." The pained gap before my name made it incredibly obvious that she was attempting to be civil, most likely a request from Finn. "I didn't know you'd be making an appearance tonight." So, apparently not a request from Finn.

Her eyes searched my form, sting clear in the corners of them.

"Yeah, hello to you too, Princess." Her eyebrow twitched at the nickname, as she turned back to Finn.

"So, uuuh… I'm Nick. Nice to meet you." He stuck out a hand, which I took. I gave him a small smile.

"Marceline." He grinned at that and nodded back towards the table. Probably a stoner, I thought.

We fell into uncomfortable silence as the bar only grew louder. Finn's face contained worry, Bonnibel's barely hiding distaste, and Nick just looked… high.

After a few moments of silence, Nick spoke up. "So, like. I'm not really sure what the problem is but you guys should just forget it." He said blankly as he made his next shot. Bonnibel averted her gaze and bit her lower lip.

"Some… words were exchanged last night that didn't go too well." Finn stated, fiddling with his pool stick after a long pause.

"Yes, apparently I am a homophobic bitch." Bonnibel said casually, avoiding my eyes. Nick looked up.

"Well… are you?" He questioned innocently.

The look on Bonnibel's face was enough to make me laugh, and I barely hid it before she shot a look of pure evil my way.

"And she thinks I want to steal her boyfriend." I muttered to Nick, who stroked his chin fuzz in thought.

"Well, do you not like her because she's gay, or because you think she wants your boyfriend?" Nick asked, half-pointing at Bonnibel with the hand not occupying his beard.

Finn simply stared at the pool table, while Bonnibel was internally raging again. It was almost a laughable sight. She had a hotter temper than she put off with her normally polite image.

Nick squinted at her as she struggled for an answer, clearly engrossed in the whole ordeal.

"I'm not homophobic." She stated. For a while, she was silent, considering.

"I don't think she wants to steal Finn… but I don't want Finn associating with her."

I was about to speak up when Nick held out an arm. For a pothead, he was surprisingly calming to be around.

"Why, Bonnie?"

Bonnibel bit her lower lip, staring at the table where Finn had been staring.

"She's just…"

I cut in.

"Just what, exactly?" Anger was bubbling up from my throat. Finn took action.

"Okay! We're not doing this again! Just hug and make up or whatever! Good Glob." He said, exasperated. Bonnibel and I gasped at Finn's assertiveness, as he was normally incredibly passive. Maybe the presence of the even more passive Nick made him like this.

"Well, I don't like her. But she can't make me stop talking to you, Finn." I said flatly, throwing an aggressive glare Bonnibel's way.

"I'm only here for two weeks on leave. Can't you just avoid us for that long? Don't you _have_ other friends?" She hissed, fingernails tapping impatiently on the pool table. I could see her visibly tense up. I remained silent, attempting to not look like a loser. Luckily, Finn answered for me.

"Marceline and I are really great friends, and I don't see why you both can't just get along! Everything was going fine until yesterday." He said, putting the back of his hand to his forehead, a typical nervous habit of his.

Bonnibel avoided meeting my eyes, but remained silent. I thought that maybe, just maybe, she would let up. I darted my eyes over to Nick, who appeared entirely too chill for this tension. He bobbed his head lightly to the incredibly faint beat of the music playing.

"I think you're intimidated by me." It slipped, honestly. Okay, maybe not. Her head snapped up, light hair swishing over her shoulder.

"As if." She growled. I let out a low chuckle.

"Even though you now know I'm gay, you still think Finn wants me instead. Face it, you're intimidated." This only served to enrage her, and her hand collided with my shoulder, pushing me back. I noticed voices hushing and faces turning from the bar to watch the events unfold.

"You think too highly of yourself." She growled, her gaze running down my body. I could feel my blood heating up in my veins.

I returned the push with one of my own, sending her hip roughly into the pool table. Nick stood back with his jaw dropped.

"I think you're just jealous, that I'm here with Finn, while you're in Cankin. I bet you worry, don't you." I was just toying with her now, trying to get a rise from her. Before she could even react, Finn had circled the table and planted himself firmly between us, separating us before further damage could be done. I stepped back and held up my hands in mock defense, and Bonnibel released a shaky, tense breath.

I shuffled my feet on the red carpet before joining Nick on the other side of the pool table. Bonnibel looked absolutely livid.

Finn sighed and hailed a waitress over. He ordered several beers in hopes to cool us off. I couldn't though, not with Bonnibel's wolfish smirk at me. When she would catch me looking back, she would smile viciously, nod, and turn back to Finn. Now, this was no friendly smile. This was an 'I want to bash your teeth in' smile. I bit back insults as this went on. Nick had become mostly clueless again.

Finn and Nick engaged in entertaining small talk as our drinks came by. I still couldn't keep my eyes off of Bonnibel and her furious looks. I almost felt… satisfied by making her so angry. I had absolutely no idea why, but it just felt good.

A few beers later and the conflict had barely lifted. Finn and Nick were having a better time, and some strangers were watching us play pool, mostly gazing between Bonnibel and I. The beer did nothing with my anger still around. I couldn't get buzzed when I wanted to just keep jabbing at her and see how angry I could make her. She continued her threatening glances and only subsided when Finn would put a hand on hers. She would turn to me then, with a look of 'mine' in her eyes, and I would just shrug. I didn't care about him.

What a bitch.

I decided to mess up her shot, purposely. She had been dominating the game for the most part, and I wanted to see her falter. As she was about to take the shot, I slammed my glass down on the table, shaking the whole thing and causing her shot to miss. Finn shot me a weary look.

"Sorry, I might've had a bit too much." I said, faking a drunken grin.

"You're always too much." Bonnibel muttered, but we all heard it. I scoffed.

"Says someone who doesn't know a thing about me." I said, seemingly uninterested. Finn looked ready to intervene again, but I gave him a subtle nod to make him leave us be.

Bonnibel's eyes trailed up to mine. "And I have no desire to know anything, either." We never broke eye contact.

"Ouch. I'm hurt." I gave a mock-pout, shifting the pool stick between my fingers.

"I wish I could hurt you more than just verbally." She said, almost too loudly. A couple of 'ooh's' erupted from the small group watching us play.

"Tell your boyfriend to back off and maybe you can try." I suggested. Her cheek twitched as she glared daggers at me. Before she could react, Nick had (potentially strategically) spilled beer all down the front of his shirt. Finn quickly went with him to get napkins while Bonnibel and I held each other's gazes. The small crowd around us had phone cameras ready to document the possible fight that had been boiling for an hour. She didn't have the guts to do anything though, and merely huffed as Finn returned with Nick.

Finn met my eyes and nodded to the corner behind the table. I followed him.

"Marceline… You don't understand." He said with a sigh.

"What?" I asked, innocently.

"She didn't cool off for hours last night. And tonight is even worse." I held back a grin at the fact that she remained angry at me for so long.

"And I know why you two go at it so easily, Marce. You two are both hotheads."

"I should be offended." I said, teasing.

"But you aren't. I'm not the one who makes you angry." His calming presence didn't affect me at all.

"Not about being a hothead, about you comparing me to her." I glanced over at Bonnibel, who was completely ignoring Nick and looking like she wanted to jump me.

Finn paused a long while.

"Are you entertained by this? Fighting with her?" There. He had hit the nail on the head. My gaze shot to him, his brows furrowed.

"You're toying with her." He stated, observing my silence. He brought a hand to his forehead and sighed tiredly.

"She pisses me off, Finn. I can't help that she starts everything."

"Really? You were the one who kept it going. Saying that you intimidate her? Was that really necessary?" He held his arm to the wall to block Bonnibel from my field of view.

"If anything," I started, flipping my hair back over my shoulder, "she's the one who's getting a kick out of this."

Finn retracted his arm and let me walk back to the table to greet Nick.

Bonnibel was glaring at me from under her eyelashes. I gave a wide smile with my tongue poking between my teeth. She turned away.

It took me a while to realize why bothering Bonnibel felt fun. It was the only thing I really had to do now. With Finn out of the way because of her, I could rely on getting a rise out of Bonnibel. While my bass was being repaired, this was the most entertainment value I could get. It should've sounded pathetic to me, but somehow it wasn't. I think Bonnibel somehow enjoyed it too. She could've left the bar with Finn at any point. But she didn't.


	4. Chapter 4

It took a few days to get any word from Finn. Even then, it was a text that served as an apology. I ultimately chose not to reply.

I was bored for a while. My house was cleaned up mostly on the inside, but the rain outside was far too heavy for me to accomplish anything. I decided to drive to the grocery store and pick up some beer as I awaited the delivery of my bass back to my house.

The roads were slick and coated in inches of water, probably enough to make someone inexperienced with this type of weather lose control. Hydroplaning was a bit of an issue but around here everyone knew what roads were the worst during storms. I avoided the main road, which was loaded with dips and curves, and took the backway to the grocery store. Yanking my hood over my hair, I quickly ran inside from the parking lot.

The store was actually a bit busy with people clearly gearing up for the storm. Water bottles for the gentleman in gray, candy and popcorn for the young couple, a whole rotisserie chicken for the rather large woman in the raincoat. I skipped past them and found the refrigerated alcohol section quickly.

After paying for the beer and sprinting back to the car, I was met with a stuck driver's door. I spent a good thirty seconds trying to wrench it open, fearing that the handle would break off. Finally entering with my hoodie only half wet, I shoved the bag into the backseat with the sound of bottles clinking as they hit the floor. I cursed lightly before pulling out of the parking lot.

The backway was suddenly flooding with cars trying to exit so I decided to take my normal route home. The traffic was glob-awful, but I didn't mind waiting. I swallowed the urge to open a beer in the car: laws and all that. Just as the stoplight let _one_ car from our row leave, I turned my attention to a single figure _walking_ down the flooded sidewalk in the rear-view. It was a woman, clearly, carrying a grocery bag in each hand. She was completely drenched and was sinking her feet into murky puddles with every step. I squinted to see who could possibly be stupid enough to be walking in a storm like this…

It was Bonnibel.

Now, I would've normally laughed at her misfortune but I saw how positively upset she looked. As she was nearing the car, I leaned over and rolled down the window as quickly as I could, allowing rain to spray into the car.

"Bonnibel?" I yelled through the heavy rain. The woman's head lifted and turned to me as she walked by. She stopped dead in her (wet) tracks and stared at me in wonder, myself doing the same to her.

"Need a ride?" I finally managed through the heavy rain. She glowered at me from the sidewalk. She held up her arms, coat sleeves completely drooping from her arms from the water soaked through. She must've been freezing.

"Not from you." She yelled back, readying to turn away and continue on her disastrous voyage.

"What, did Finn break up with you?" I toyed, pulling the car up slightly.

Her gaze became fiery as she snapped her head back towards me. She walked up to the car window, poking her head in, and frowned. Her makeup was running down her eyes and casting a sinister look to her features.

"No. Something about his brother. He had to leave in a hurry. I walked to the store before it started to rain." She stated, annoyed.

"What, two hours ago?" I teased. Her gaze darkened.

"I tried to wait." She pulled her head out of the window and huffed.

I remained silent a moment.

"Wait." I pleaded, the desperate tone grabbing her attention.

"Let me give you a ride back. It's the least I could do." I stated, feeling a bit sorry for her. If I was stuck in that situation, I wouldn't be happy either.

By now, rain was starting to pour openly into the car so I quickly motioned for her to enter. She gave a loud sigh of resignation and climbed in, completely soaking the seat.

"Nice car." She spoke sarcastically.

"Nice to see that Finn made a girl wet for once."

She nearly choked on her own spit.

The look on her face was just impossibly funny so I did nothing to stop the laughter from bubbling from my throat.

"I'm leaving." She said, a blush settling on her chilled cheeks.

I grabbed her (terrifyingly cold) arm and held her in.

"Glob, take a joke, Princess." She tensed visibly from the contact and released her hold on the door handle. I pointed to the still-open window and she rolled it up.

Her reply was nearly a whisper: "Finn and I aren't like that."

Her sudden softness confused me for a moment.

"I know." I replied, honestly.

"Oh, I bet he tells you _everything_ , doesn't he?" Her voice picked up a few notches.

"Probably more than he's told you." She sat back in the seat and huffed.

"I'm turning up the heat." She began to reach for the heater knob when I swatted her hand away.

"It's my car." I turned to her, frowning. I would've been a bit more sympathetic if she wasn't being such a bitch about it.

She shot me a look. "Seriously? I'm soaking wet."

"And I'm taking you home. Is that not enough, or do you need to get out?" I muttered, gripping the steering wheel.

I could feel her eyes on me and suddenly there was a very cold hand pressed to the side of my neck. I nearly jumped out of my skin with a yelp.

"Yeah, that was cold, huh? Imagine that all over your body, you ignorant-"

"How about you take that fucking soaking coat off, genius? It would probably help. And don't touch me again or we'll have problems." She did as I suggested, removing her coat to reveal a soaked through shirt that showed… well, a lot.

"Oh, I figured that you'd like the touching. Considering your taste for women and all." She snarled, throwing her coat in the backseat with a wet thump.

"You think too highly of yourself." I said, mimicking her words from the other night.

"Oh, and you don't think highly of me, being as how you stared at me when we first met?" I laughed, but internally struggled with the fact that she'd noticed it.

"Sorry, Hun, but I'd prefer my piece of ass to have a personality to go with it." I barked back.

Unluckily, traffic was still backed up horribly. She turned to me with a wicked gaze.

"Says someone who doesn't know a thing about me…" She said in a monotone voice, casting a pretty bad impression of myself.

"What, do you want me to want you or something?" I suggested with a scowl, turning my whole body to her.

Her face remained blank for a moment. She huffed, indignant.

I smirked at her. She shrunk under my gaze.

"Oh, so first you were mad that I 'wanted' your boyfriend, and now you're angry that I don't want _you_?"

"That's not it at all, thank you." I laughed at that, casting my eyes to the road before me.

"Then what was it?" I asked, pursing my lips.

She was silent for a bit, only the sounds of rain hitting the car roof creating a noise barrier between us.

"That's none of your business." She finally decided on.

"Sure." I said before turning on the CD player and choosing a track. Bonnibel merely remained silent, complaining once or twice about my "horrible" music choices. I only shot her dirty looks in return.

When we finally moved up a bit in traffic, closer to Finn's flat, I noticed that Bonnibel was leaning against the window. She hadn't said a word in a while.

"You dead?" I asked, without reply.

Becoming a bit worried, I leaned forward to look at her. She was simply asleep with her head against the window. I paused, considering waking her up. Carefully, I grasped her hand, still freezing cold, and instantly felt bad for not turning to heater up. I did so then, and unbuckled my seatbelt to strip my hoodie from my body. Carefully prodding her shoulder, I woke her up.

"What?" She spat, tiredly.

I shoved the hoodie into her lap and frowned. She was so nice, unconscious.

She refused to touch it for a moment, holding her hands above it.

"I'm not contagious." I stated flatly, nearly taking offense to her actions.

She unbuckled her seatbelt swiftly. Eying me carefully, she began to unbutton her shirt. Instantly, I felt embarrassed and turned to look out the window. Within a few seconds, I could hear the sound of fabric ruffling and her putting the hoodie on over her head. Slipping her arms into the sleeves, I watched her glare become less intense for a moment. She dropped the wet shirt onto the floor of the car next to the bags and continued to buckle her seatbelt again.

She mumbled something that mildly resembled a 'thank you' and turned to face back out the window. I observed her for a moment, her hair spilling over the sides of the baggy black hoodie. It almost looked fitting on her.

No.

The rest of the ride back to Finn's place was silent, save for the horns honking throughout traffic. When I pulled up, Bonnibel seemed content to remain in the seat.

"You can finally escape, Princess."

She turned her eyes to me, scanning my face. I tried to remain emotionless. Her eyes painfully darted from my gaze to the collar of my shirt. Between the darkness of her eyes (potentially due to the smeared makeup and overall darkness outside) and the way she was sitting, I was worried about what she was planning to do. Without a word, she unbuckled her seatbelt and wrenched the door open to set off into the rain holding her things. With my hoodie. Great.

A few hours later, Finn sent me a text.

 **I didn't want to bring it up, but why does Bonnie have your jacket?**

I scoffed and told him to either figure it out or ask her, which earned me no reply for a long while. Leaning back on the couch with a beer to my left and bass in hand, I began to pluck a few chords. Somehow, even though that encounter with Bonnibel was particularly worse than the first fight, I felt like we'd made some progress. Not that I wanted to make progress. No. Of course not.


End file.
